


End Of My Rope

by zaynsperfectlashes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Divorce, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Jealous Zayn, M/M, Sad, Shameless Smut, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23330671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaynsperfectlashes/pseuds/zaynsperfectlashes
Summary: It's never enough with you, Zayn wants to say. Even when you're here in my room, on my bed, so close, it's still not enough because you're not mine. It's not enough because I want to know you in and out. Because I want to pull your hair and scratch at your scalp while I fuck you to see if you still like it. Because I want to be buried deep inside you to see if you'd let me, if you'd let me crawl my way inside your chest until I have all of you to me, only me. Because I want to trace every inch of your skin with my lips and leave bruises of my love on it, like a painting on a blank canvas.
Relationships: Zayn Malik & Harry Styles, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 42
Kudos: 82





	1. One

"This is just a draft," Zayn pauses to say, "I'll probably improvise it a lot. But this is what I have for now."

Sarah's probably nodding, Zayn can tell. She's his publisher, but a good friend too and she gets it, that it takes a little time with him, he functions like that because he needs to formulate his thoughts before he writes them out. But she also knows that she needs to push him, a little here and there, so she knows he's working on it.

"Go on."

Zayn nods and then feels stupid because she can't see him, clears his throat and starts reading.

_The entire history's classified by a significant existence, The Christ, before the Christ and after the Christ._

_My story's like that too. If I go on to think about it actually, I can't remember anything else, anything that was as important, that is as important now to_ _bewrite_ my story.

_I was lost really, lost inside my own mind before I learnt what it was to want someone, really wanting them, wanting so much that they became my every thought. They reigned their way into my deep insides and all I could do was, helplessly smile and let them ruin me. A ruin that cut sharply into my chest and sowed seeds of life inside me, so much that I felt alive after a long time even though I bled everyday._

_I have a story to tell, the story of my life but like history, it's classified by a significant existence too, Him, before him and after him._

Zayn pauses and bites his nail , "This is just a draft okay, it's not like proper right now but this is how-"

"How you start writing and then you write wonderful books. I know Zayn. I know. Go on." She's smiling, Zayn can tell even through the phone, like she does when she knows he's having a little writer's block.

Zayn takes a deep breath and starts reading again :

_Harry Styles, strode his way into my life with a bang, literally. With his hair flying in all the directions, his green bright eyes a sharp contrast to his pale face and his lips gape open, he slammed his shoulder into mine, my body jerking with it and my books landing with a bang, cutting the dead silence of the library. I curled my fingers around his bicep to steady him while my other hand flew to his waist before he could fall back onto the bookshelf behind him._

_It wasn't until I saw his eyes travelling down my neck, which made my blood rush, that I finally felt the trickling hot coffee down my stomach. It hurt, it did but I didn't twitch under his gaze until his eyes landed back on mine, stopping for a second too long at my lips. He leaned in then, "I'm sorry." And I shook my head, to brush him away and tried to pull back but he held onto my shoulder, tight, whispering into my ear, "Let me make it up to you, please." I shut my eyes at the suggestion, stopping the moan threatening to escape my lips. He pulled back and what I saw was very different from the look I expected after the remark, he looked serious, guilty, almost innocent- almost._

_He told me he had a boyfriend, at the nearest coffee shop, where we were crammed in a corner. I don't know why, but he did. He couldn't hide things, it seemed. He had too much to say, too much to talk about, too much that it made it's way out of him without a filter because he blushed after every few seconds probably realising what he'd said. He had dimples, these deep openings embedded in his cheeks, that appeared even when he looked embarrassed which didn't make him look embarrassed is the point, he looked pretty._

_He was curious. He listened, which was a little surprising because he talked too much but then he asked about my subjects, my family, my thoughts on vinlys and CD's and went quiet with his eyes wide and his body pulled forward towards me, like he wanted to know, needed to know. And I told him, unexpectedly, I did._

_He was an interesting eater. He opened his mouth wide to bite into the huge piece of pie he'd ordered, revealing the pink velvety corners of his mouth and pulled his tongue out so he could roll his tongue around the food first. And he took giant bites, along with which he managed to talk too. I should've been appalled, from the very first second in the library, but if I felt anything, he was endearing._

_I saw him a lot after that, he was everywhere, waving his hands wildly at me in the busy hallway filled with students, winking at me in the silence of the library and running towards me on the streets. He was everywhere and I saw him too, I couldn't not, his curls could be recognised amongst a huge crowd. I was fascinated, I discovered, with his curls. I tried to draw them sometimes, but couldn't just get them right. It was frustrating but it wouldn't last because I'd find him again, after a few minutes and he'd tell me more about his family and his boyfriend._

_He made me feel wanted, relevant. Like I was a mystery to him and he wanted to solve me, needed to pull my strings until I was spread open infront of him, vulnerable and bare, until he knew what I was thinking all the time, until he knew what I hid inside the hollow cavity of my chest. I knew he'd be my ruin._

_I heard my name being called one day, while I was doodling at the park behind our highschool, my legs spread open and my drawing pad on my thigh. I squinted and it was him, the only noise in my life. He grinned at me, bent in half over his knees, exhausted probably and panting. I stared at him, at his hair, right in front of me, shining under the sun. His eyes caught my drawing pad and he snatched it out of my hands, settling himself between my thighs, face towards me and legs folded. He paused before turning the page, held the page and looked at me, a flicker of slight hesitation in his eyes caught upon me and I nodded so his eyes would go back to being bright and green again, they did and he grinned again, skimming through my sketches, pausing at every single one, tracing a particular line with his finger and then smiling to himself, like a secret.He walked me home that evening, bumping shoulders with me everytime I snorted at his knock knock jokes. I saw him walking away, under the night sky, from my front door, until he was just a shadow with curly hair._

_It became an unsaid routine, him and me, together. He liked to touch, alot. It took me a while to get that, he needed to touch, like a reassurance that I was there. He'd sneak his fingers under my shirt and trace his cold fingers on my stomach, scratch at the skin sometimes sending goosebumps all over my skin and grin back at the effect he had on my body. The other times he'd lick, swirl his pink tongue at any patch of skin he could find on me and laugh out loud when I made a face to hide the tremor of arousal that shot through me. He'd snuggle closer to me afterwards, tangling his legs with mine and his face on my chest. On days like those, I could feel that his body said something, told me things he didn't realise himself. But I didn't ask him and he didn't tell me._

_I loved the bright green of his eyes, piercing and gleaming, loved how bright his eyes went when he laughed, really laughed. He was addicting, somedays I craved him more than my cigarette, I wished it was him under my touch than the sleek stick of nicotine. He'd talk to me about how amazing his boyfriend was and I'd stare at him, wondering what it was like to be the one he loved,_ _to_ _be the one he gushed about, to be the one to make him weak by a single wet flick of a tongue. I was spiralling down and I needed to get away from him._

_I still remember how exhausted I was, leaning against the window of the car, watching the gloomy sky, after spending three weeks at my grandmother's with my family, when I saw him on the steps of my front door with his head hung low, hugging himself like he had nowhere to go. He hugged my mom and shook my dad's hand and finally looked at me, with a broken smile, too broken to be his but all I saw was his eyes, dull and blurry. I ran towards him and hugged him and he stiffened, because I hadn't ever touched him first I think, I was never the one to touch him first, he had to wrap himself around me and then guide my hands on his body, the way he wanted. I kissed his curls, peppering small kisses to them and he fell lax in my arms, a few moments after, head falling on my shoulder and hips aligned with mine. I felt brave and ran my fingers through his hair next, before I could think about it. The strands curled around my fingers like silk. I skimmed my fingers deeper into his hair and scratched at his scalp, lightly and he sighed, like he was giving in. "My parents are getting divorced." and then after a beat, "I'm scared Zayn." I took him up, while he trembled, hand around his waist and laid him down on my bed, taking off his shoes and socks next before laying right next to him, my fingers itching to touch his hair again. I saw him, struggling to breathe infront of me and I had tears pricking the corners of my eyes, I almost cried. He tried to breathe, in and out, deep and loud and then he let out a pained sound, a sob and I immediately engulfed him into my arms, until he was curled around me with his legs tangled with mine and his arm around my waist and his face tucked into my neck, like he was hiding, we were touching, head to toe. He cried that night and I held him. It was his week with his boyfriend, I couldn't help but think while he snored into my wet neck, later that night. He had to fly to him but he didn't. I didn't ask him why he wasn't with his boyfriend. I didn't ask why he waited for me at my front door. I didn't ask why he wasn't desperately calling his boyfriend for comfort. I had a million questions but I didn't ask and he didn't tell me._

_He grew up with me, around me. We went to the same uni in the same town. He had the chance to apply for the uni near his boyfriend in another country, but he didn't. Anne would go all sad and teary at the thought and with his father no more there Harry couldn't have that, could he? So he didn't. He became a different person. His hair grew longer which was my favourite part because I could play with it easily while he laid infront of me under the sun, his body went broader and his face sharper. He wasn't the open, baby faced kid anymore. But I saw him and I could see through him, I could find the soft parts of him underneath the sharp smirks and set jawline he kept on display for everyone to see. I could touch him and make him vulnerable and raw. I knew how to pull his hair to make him sigh and give in to me. I knew him._

_And he knew me, brought me the chai latte I needed before my class, held me close before I had a presentation in class, distracted me before results so I would stop biting my nails, got me drunk when Kiara Anderson dumped me after dating me for a week because I wasn't as exotic in person as I looked, tucked me in my bed and hid my books before exams when he knew I was overwhelmed and exhausted._

_He knew me, except he didn't. He didn't know the parts of me that loved him and his bright eyes and his curly hair and his loud laugh and his awkward limbs. The parts of me that cried some nights when I wanted him, so bad, while he flew to see his boyfriend. He didn't know the parts of me that hurt when he cried for his boyfriend, right into my neck because he wouldn't pick Harry's calls. Parts of me that fell for him, fell so hard, I lost myself into him. Parts of me that blurred the lines of individuality, because I didn't know what I was without him anymore. I touched him some nights, while he wrapped himself around me, to see if he'd hear what my body said. I traced my fingers over his bare thighs, even traced a 'I love you' on his skin one night, he shivered with it but continued to snore into my neck. I wanted to ask him if he heard me, my body, but I didn't ask and he didn't tell me._

_He was a good lover, a perfect one, if you ask me. He loved with everything in him, so much that he gave everything he had. He made you laugh, so hard you cried because of it. He looked at you with his bright eyes and you forgot anything else ever existed, nothing brighter than those green eyes. He baked cakes for their anniversaries, like a love sick puppy. He took roses for him every month he visited him because his boyfriend lived in another country. Harry told me one day, while he cried into my neck, "Sometimes he feels so far away..I feel like ..like I could take a hundred flights and still not reach him. He feels too far away and sometimes..just the 'i love you' on text doesn't feel enough. But I love him and if he stopped..if he ever stopped loving me...Zayn..I don't-" I cut him off with a hug because I didn't need to hear what Harry would do_.

_And I? I was just there,_ _existing_ _beside him, because he was here atleast, in my bed, wrapped around me, even if he really wasn't with me. He didn't know, I could tell, he didn't know how gone I was, but sometimes, just somedays he looked at me and I could've sweared he knew. Could've sweared he was playing a game, he knew I was in love with him and he just wanted to see how far I would go. But then he would blink and I saw nothing but the Harry Styles I met at the library, wide eyes and mouth agape, innocent- almost innocent._

_I had my heart broken one day, so loud that I thought everyone could hear the fracturing sound of it, fractured irreparably, could see it on my face while I drank shots after shots. To be fair I never thought it would happen. But it did and I don't know how but I didn't run away, I didn't hide, for the first time I stood there, facing him, with a smile plastered to my face, alcohol on my breath and my hands trembling in the pockets of my pants, while he married his boyfriend. I think I never wanted him as much as I wanted him that day, in his navy blue suit with white flowers on it, his hair cut neatly, curling at the nape of his neck and his mouth so pink, it put all the lipsticks to shame. I trembled with want that day, a tremor went through my body and it took away everything I had, every hope I had of ever having him, of calling him mine someday. Even broken like that, I felt my eyebrows pinch everytime his husband looked at anything but him. Harry deserved to be looked at, for hours, until those green eyes burnt you and you'd still smile because he'd apologise afterwards with his dimples popping out._

_Harry Styles was a sin. And I was his sinner. He cut me open with his soft smiles and crawled inside my chest until he lived right next to my heart. So everytime my heart beats, I think of him. So every word I write belongs to him._

_This is my story, there's a lot to tell, more about him than me but that's how it is, that is what I am, I always will be- his_.

Zayn takes a deep breath and waits and when there's silence for a long time, "Hello?"

"Yeah. I'm here. It's.. Zayn it's-"

"Not good. I know. I don't know why I thought of writing this after so many years, it just makes no sense." He lets his head fall.

"No! Zayn. Listen to me, this- this is beautiful okay. And I want you to write it. We can always edit it if there's a problem but you have to write this. I like this alot."

Zayn smiles then, eyes wide, "Really?"

"Uhuh. Do it. And listen to me you, write it as quick as you can and then come back here so we can work forward on it. No being useless. And Zayn? A week. Okay?"

And it's that tone she uses when she wants a work done, Zayn nods and feels stupid again, "Yeah. Yes. A week. Promise."

"Sonshine. Harry's here."

And fuck, "Okay bye Sarah. Bye." Zayn cuts the call, closes his laptop quickly and slides it under his pillow before he looks up.

He's here, at the door of Zayn's old bedroom, with a grin on his face, his hair growing again, standing tall near Trisha.

"I was waiting for you, Harry Styles." Zayn says with a silly smile while he rests his back against the headboard, his legs folded infront of him.

Harry smirks and walks towards him, lands on his bed, like he always did, with a thump, "I was busy Malik."

Zayn snorts back, "Yeah? Doing what? Telling Gemma's kids knock knock jokes? Those poor poor babies."

He gasps, pretends to be hurt, "My jokes are excellent Zayn! Ant and Rosy love them by the way."

"Delusion is a great way to console yourself Harry Styles."

He smacks Zayn's shoulder and laughs when he gets a pout in return.   
"How are you?" He asks then at the same time Zayn says, "I missed you."

They laugh again. "Ofcourse you did." He rolls his eyes and Zayn's eyes flit towards Trisha, standing right near the door and the look on her face, like she knows, she's known since the beginning, it scares him. Because he's come a long way, it's been a long time and even though Harry Styles will always be the highlight of his story, he doesn't want to crumble at his sight anymore, he doesn't want to crumble anymore. Trisha just shakes her head and leaves. 

Zayn sighs and look back at Harry, spread on his bed, "So how's everything with Jean?"

He shrugs, not a tight one, rather a relaxed one, like it doesn't bother him anymore, "He was here a week ago, for his business something and we met too. Had coffee and like talked." He flails his arms a little.

"No bad blood then?" Zayn teases.

"Nope. We did it mutually actually. And he couldn't hate me after I told him so many of my knock knock jokes with tears and snot running down my face while signing the divorce, to make it better."

Zayn laughs, like he hasn't in a long time, like only Harry can make him.

He stops when Harry clears his throat, "So you've been back for a week. You didn't call me?"

Zayn rolls his eyes, "I was actually busy. Writing a new book."

"Came home for inspiration then?" He teases with a smile that looks too evil and dangerous, especially when they're so close on Zayn's bed.

But Zayn nods back. And he immediately stretches infront of Zayn, the long length of his body right there, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, hair falling back onto the bed. He's beautiful, he never stopped being beautiful and Zayn never stopped wanting him. _I wish I could tell him, I wish I could ask him if his body still wants me, I wish I could stop being scared, I wish. But I never ask and he never tells._

"What are you doing?" Zayn settles on.

"Trying to be your inspiration?" Harry opens an eye and Zayn laughs, only if he knew.

"Is this enough?" Harry asks again with a smile in his voice.

It's never enough with you, Zayn wants to say. Even when you're here in my room, on my bed, so close, it's still not enough because you're not _mine_. It's not enough because I want to know you in and out. Because I want to pull your hair and scratch at your scalp while I fuck you to see if you still like it. Because I want to be buried deep inside you to see if you'd let me, if you'd let me crawl my way inside your chest until I have all of you to me, only me. Because I want to trace every inch of your skin with my lips and leave bruises of my love on it, like a painting on a blank canvas.

But all he does is snort. Harry just winks at him and stretches even further, "How about now?"

Zayn throws a pillow at him. "You'll never grow up."

Harry shrugs and then, "Come on let's get coffee." He stands up abruptly.

"What? _Now_?"

He rolls his eyes, "Yes Zayn _now_. I've got to tell you a lot of things."

Zayn looks at him then, " _Things_?"

Harry nods. "Come on get up. I'm going down to help Trisha meanwhile. Get up you old man!" He even pokes his tongue out at Zayn, like they're eight.

And it's Zayn's fault and no one else's if he still feels the bubble of hope flaring inside him, even after all these years. It's no one's fault. Not even Harry's. It's all Zayn and his stupid _stupid_ heart rattling against his chest.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry breathes harshly between them, licking his lips to moist them, so they shine and Zayn's eyes dip down to catch the movement. He watches mesmerized as water droplets from his hair drop down onto Harry's lips, stopping at the deep bow of his lips, before Harry licks his lips again.

Harry takes him to the same coffee shop they had their first coffee at. They settle at a booth in the corner and talk, well Harry talks about everything and anything while he chomps on big bites of the pie. And Zayn's still so endeared by it, can't really look away. Harry raises his eyebrows at him and he stands up and reaches across the table to wipe at his mouth as an excuse for the staring. He settles back on his seat with a grin and drums his fingers on his thigh until they stop shaking.

He talks about Jean, about their honeymoon, their apartment, the neighbors they had and then he shows Zayn pictures of the weird stuff Harry found interesting in the foreign country from a colourful bird to a pair of socks with ants drawn on it. He shows Zayn pictures of Ant and Rosy. Zayn coos at those and Harry smiles smugly taking the credit for the pictures. He thumbs over to the next picture and it's the three of them, Ant, Rosy and Harry tucked in between with his eyes wide and Ant and Rosy poking his dimples, laughing. Zayn almost cries at it, at how beautiful the picture is, how amazing they look, how beautiful Harry looks.

He asks Zayn about his whereabouts then, from his new friends to his address.

"Why do you want to know my address Harry?" Zayn asks, sipping at his coffee with eyebrows raised in amusement.

"I just need to know everything. Tell me." He shakes his head and leans forward with his eyes wide and on Zayn, like he used to. Always the curious one. 

So Zayn rolls his eyes and tells him everything. About his publisher, his books, his friends, his _address_ too.

Something changes between them, suddenly the air is thick and Zayn can feel it, like too much steam clogging him in a shower. Harry's looking at him, like he wants something and Zayn really doesn't know what.

"What?" Zayn tries to laugh, to ease the air a little.

He shakes his head, with a smile too twisted and sad.

"Harry? What is it?" Zayn nudges his foot with Harry's.

"You." And then immediately widens his eyes like he didn't expect that to fall out of his mouth. " No, I mean, I mean, I just..you know so much happened here and I'm so happy for you, Zayn, I'm really happy for you but just sometimes I really missed having my best friend with me. I missed what we had and it's not like, you're not wrong in moving on and getting on with your life, I'm happy for you but just that.. Do you have a girlfriend Zayn?"

Zayn's eyes are just wide and his eyebrows almost vanishing behind his hair, "What? I mean no, I don't have a girlfriend, or boyfriend." He adds in the end.

Harry's suddenly gone very red, slumping back on his seat, not looking at him, "I'm sorry. I don't know what came upon me. But, like sometimes Trisha talks about you and she becomes so sad,like you're too far, even when she's talking to you on the phone and it just makes me think that you've forgotten us, me. So I thought maybe it's because you've got a girlfriend or a boyfriend maybe, I mean, you can date anyone it's fine. But-"

Zayn reaches forward this time, secures his fingers around Harry's wrist, twists it so his hand gives into Zayn and links their fingers together with a smile, "You can't really stop, can you?" Harry bites at his lip, embarrassed and shy.

"I can't Harry, I could never forget all of you. It's always you guys for me, if I see a bird, all I can think of is texting you a picture of it. I miss mum so much, I cried a few times, " he laughs, "-really cried because I couldn't figure out how to make my food. I missed her but I can't let her know that because she cares too much and she'll get worried and I already have her worrying about me. And I missed Gemma too and her bullying, can you believe that? Even when I'm living there, I am not really there. I'm here. I'm always here."

The tension settles down a bit on Harry's face, he relaxes in Zayn's hold, looks at their hands and smiles, dimples hiding behind the curls framing his face.

"I'm sorry to be interrupting this romantic moment but do you guys want to order anything else?" Lucy cuts in.

Zayn rolls his eyes and pulls his hand back, "This isn't a romantic moment and no we don't want anything else Lucy. Thankyou."

She gives him a wide grin, she knows too, Zayn sighs at the thought. He looks at Harry and he's looking back at him, suddenly rigid.

******

"Mom for the last time, I eat, all the time. He's lying!" Zayn groans, hiding his face behind his hands, sitting on a stool next to the kitchen counter.

"Okay, maybe you do. But just have another bite of this, come on, open up." She leans over the counter and Zayn begrudgingly opens his mouth.

He hears a snicker and turns to glare at Harry, leaning against the kitchen counter, his back to Zayn.

"Stop making those weird sounds."

Harry gasps and turns around, "Who? Me? I didn't make any sounds."

"I can literally see you laughing at my face."

Harry walks towards him and settles next to him, on another stool.

"Okay but Trisha's right, you do need to eat. I think you should make him his favourite biryani too, he looks like he hasn't eaten in ages." He smiles at Zayn, wickedly.

"No mom!" Zayn yelps, "I'm really full, I swear."

"Oh, are you? Weren't you talking about some diet to make those cheekbones pop out, where you starve yourse-"

Zayn stomps his foot on Harry's making him yelp, "Oww!" And then splashes his glass of water at Harry's shirt, amused at Harry's open mouth, "Are you kidding me??"

"Nope." Zayn grins back.

"Zayn I'm going to literally punch you." Harry threatens.

"Aww, look at you, so grown up." Zayn pokes at his nose.

"Alright you two, stop." Trisha cuts in.

Zayn turns to her, "He started-"  
He's cut off by Harry dumping a bottle of water on him.

"You-" He yells and Harry runs, up the stairs, towards Zayn's room.

Zayn strides after him and closes the door behind them, grinning, "You aren't getting away."

Harry's laughing, like he can't stop, panting in between, "You deserved it."

Zayn walks towards him, dangerously ,"Did I?"

Harry takes a step back, "Yes." His eyes shining.

In the next second, Zayn pushes him against the wall in a smooth move earning a ' _oof_ ' from him, caging him, "How about now?"

"I think you deserved it."

Zayn gets closer, until they're touching everywhere, his front plastered to Harry's.

Harry breathes harshly between them, licking his lips to moist them, so they shine and Zayn's eyes dip down to catch the movement. He watches mesmerized as water droplets from his hair drop down onto Harry's lips, stopping at the deep bow of his lips, before Harry licks his lips again.

Zayn doesn't look away, can't look away, and he might have missed the breathy ' _Zayn_ ' Harry lets out, if he wasn't already looking.

He drags his eyes over the delicious dip of his lips, to the bridge of his nose to his eyes, staring back at him, " You're crushing me."

 _Oh_.

Zayn pulls back, flabbergasted at what happened and what was _about_ _to_ happen between them. All he can think of is, _would Harry kiss him back? Did he want him too?_

Harry closes his eyes and leans against the wall, head thrown back, his long neck inviting Zayn and he has to clench his hands so he doesn't scratch his nails down the skin of Harry's neck to make him moan.

And then, because he knows he can't really watch Harry opening his eyes and looking at him with regret and embarrassment in his eyes, because he probably didn't even want this a d now this exchange is going to be awkward, he stomps his foot on Harry's again.

" _Zayn_ what the fuck!!" Harry yells and Zayn laughs and rushes down towards the kitchen.

And the moment's gone.

**

Harry drags him to an amusement park, the next evening, which he promises is amazing and something _we should experience so we are prepared to take our kids there someday_. Zayn just laughs and follows him, his hand in Harry's, secure and safe.

They walk through the park, hand in hand and Zayn watches Harry, watches how his eyes go all wide at the colourful lights and stalls, how he laughs at all the people yelling on the rides, how he vibrates with happiness, jumps on his toes dragging Zayn everywhere he can and he follows him, never letting go.

It's fucking beautiful until Harry starts dragging him towards the roller coaster. Zayn's eyes go wide and he steps back, shaking his head but then Harry steps towards him, looks in his eyes and mutters a _pleassseeee I'll even hold your hand if you want and-and we can watch star wars four times tonight promise._ _Pleaaaaseee_ _._ And Zayn agrees, ofcourse he does. _BloodyHarryfuckingStyles_.

They get off the roller coaster and Zayn can't really stop laughing, can't stand straight with how much he's laughing because Harry's gone pale, like he's going to be sick, while his hand grips Zayn's tight and he blows huge gulps of air out of his mouth, fanning himself with his other hand.

" _I'll even hold your hand_." Zayn mocks him and Harry makes a poor face back at him, drained and still not steady. Zayn loves him, even like this, in the tiniest ways, Zayn _fucking_ loves him.

He holds Harry by his waist and sits him down on a bench, running to bring them two glasses of fruit punches and settles down next to Harry, so their bodies touch, from their shoulders to the side of their thighs. Harry brightens up a little at the taste of the drink and gulps the entire glass. He also very sternly promises to never get on another ride the entire evening, or ever again while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Zayn just laughs and wraps his arm around his waist tight which makes him smile and lean into him. They don't look away from each other and Zayn finds himself leaning in too, until they're just a breath away, lips almost touching and nothing else exists in this moment, everything too focused on Harry and his pink _pink_ lips.

He just needs to move half an inch and he'll be kissing Harry. But then they both startle apart when the fireworks go up. He shakes his head and almost has a moment of panic but he sneaks a look at Harry and he's smiling too, a little bashfully and tucking his hair behind his ear. And all the nervousness dissipates followed by this new giddiness, of a promise, of a story, _their_ _story_. It feels like a fucking high school romance and they're not even in high school. They're men now, grown men in their late twenties and Zayn should be mature about this but Harry's biting his bottom lip, so embarrassed and blushing red and he can't help the stupid grin that almost hurts his face now.

Harry walks him to his house that night, linking their fingers on the way . He can feel the tension between them as they stand awkwardly, outside his house, a feet apart. Zayn's about to burst with the weird energy surrounding them when Harry steps forward and kisses his cheek, right at his front door, so quiet and so slow that he has to squeeze his eyes shut, savoring the moment.

He bites at his lip nervously when Zayn opens his eyes, gauging Zayn's reaction probably. Zayn smiles at him and steps forward, rises on his toes and quickly kisses his cheek too and Harry goes red, _literally_. He grins, cheeky and embarrassed and excited and tries to kiss Zayn's lips next when the sound of the front door opening has him stumbling back in shock. Zayn laughs at his face, it's cute really.

But then Trisha walks out in her night robe, giving them weird looks and Harry whispers his goodnight to her. Harry waits for her to go back in, but she stays standing there, looking in between both of them, eyebrows raised. He admits his defeat with a suffered sigh and waves at Zayn, gets a wink in return and walks away.

Zayn stands there, on his front door, watching Harry walk away under the night sky, until he becomes just a shadow with curly hair.

Zayn can't really sleep that night, he _can't_. He's high on this giddy feeling of finally having it all, of having Harry, to himself, to kiss and hold and not care about a long distance boyfriend. He can't sleep tonight, but unlike other dreadful nights when he desperately clings to his pillow to try and get some sleep, he doesn't even try tonight, just smiles to himself, blinking at the ceiling.

******

"Fuck, we were supposed to eat ice cream." Harry pouts and leans his entire weight on Zayn.

"You dragged me to the bar!" Zayn yells accusingly, eyes narrowed at him. Harry immediately clamps his hand over his mouth, "Shhhh! If Trisha hears us , she'll beat the shit out of us."

Zayn nods then, eyes wide. He knows Trisha will.

They stumble up the stairs into Zayn's room and Zayn manages to just close the door and turn around and Harry's already naked, down to his boxers. He picks up his clothes and starts folding them and Zayn just stares at him.

The room's lit with a yellow glow of the street light, filtering into the room through the window, falling right onto Harry, hitting all the right angles. Harry looks beautiful, etheral and someone Zayn's wanted for years and finally, _maybe_ , has but can't really believe. His hair falls loose around his face and his body glistens with the sweat still clinging to his skin, his dark tattoos shining in a stark contrast to his pale skin. Harry looks at him after he's done and his eyebrows pinch together in confusion.

"What?"

Zayn has a difficult time _actually_ telling him what.

"N-nothing."

His lips curve into a smirk slowly as he walks towards Zayn, with Zayn moving back until he's right against the door with a soft thud. Harry walks closer, they're not touching, not yet but Zayn can still feel his body heat, can smell the coconut shampoo he uses and he has to shut his eyes really.

"Zayn."

And Harry's voice, the rasp of it, his breath hitting his face is too much, all of this is too much and Zayn's already a little hard in his jeans.

He opens his eyes and Harry's staring right at him, too close, "Knock knock?"

Zayn shudders with a groan and pushes him away with his hands right over Harry's stomach, firm beneath them. Harry laughs, this high pitched guffaw that makes him look adorable and stumbles onto the bed.

Zayn can't really comprehend what's going on right now, not with the alcohol hitting his body and mind all at once and Harry near him, almost reachable, after all these years and _very_ naked on his bed. So he walks straight to the bathroom to fucking think for a second.

By the time he walks out into the room in his sweatpants and tank top, Harry's under the covers and blinking at the window. Zayn walks towards the bed, taking the time to look at Harry, when Harry turns to look at him with wide eyes, hazy but still the brightest thing ever and immediately makes grabby hands for him.

Zayn shakes his head in mere adoration and gets under the covers. He lays straight on his back, facing the ceiling, so Harry takes it upon himself to shuffle closer, until he has his head on Zayn's chest, tracing his long fingers over his top. He always liked to touch, Zayn thinks and smiles, this secret smile he's kept for Harry and his thoughts.

"Sometimes I wonder.." Harry starts, "how I never realised it sooner..that..that he wasn't the one. I had a feeling..always had this nagging thought that it was a mistake but I was young and in love, well I _thought_ I was in love," he laughs, " and it was all so exciting and I thought I was just nervous..I thought I was being stupid. And he-he was just so sweet in the start and I thought this is it.. this is my love story." He shrugs and Zayn wraps his arm around his waist and Harry scoots even closer if that's possible.

It's quiet for a while.

"I'm sorry." Zayn whispers, "that I wasn't here when it happened." Because Harry deserved to have someone, to have his best friend with him.

Harry shakes his head and hides his face into Zayn's neck, nosing at the warm skin, "It's okay. It wasn't ugly or anything. And it's not like you could've known . I just...woke up one day and I knew it wasn't him, he wasn't the one and it wasn't right, the marriage, we weren't right. _God_ , it felt so wrong and I just told him, " he lets out a long sigh, like he's reliving the moment and Zayn plants a small kiss on his head. "..And we cried, we both did. We cried so much..and it felt so hollow, because we didn't yell you know....we..we just had nothing to say.. nothing to fight for. I felt so lonely, with him, right there. So yeah-", he clears his throat, "then I came back here, to mom and Gemma and Ant and Rosy." He sniffles a little and Zayn tries to pull him away to look at his face but Harry snuggles further into his neck until his lips rest against Zayn's racing pulse and this is not the time for it. Zayn shouldn't be hard, not with Harry so close, he shouldn't but he is, _fuck he is_. Harry's lips skim against his pulse, rubbing against it in soft movements and Zayn's scared, he's so scared that Harry will notice how his heart's started thudding so hard.

Then something happens, Harry kisses his neck, this small wet kiss, barely there but also burning Zayn's skin, so much he almost shudders. It could be a mistake, Zayn tries to reason, it could be a mistake and it shouldn't mean anything, it doesn't have to. But it happens again, Harry presses his lips against his skin again, a little firmly this time, sucking at the skin in the end, right above his pulse point.

Zayn's hold on his waist tightens and he stills, doesn't move for a second and Zayn thinks he's finally gotten Harry out of his drunken haze into reality, where they're just best friends but then Harry shifts closer, until he's half on top of Zayn with his thigh folded right above Zayn's groin and Zayn's hard, Zayn's _very_ hard right now.

"Harry, shit."

Harry bites his skin and laps his tongue at the skin, this wet glide of his tongue that has shivers running down Zayn's body. He tries to pull away, to ask Harry if he's sure.

But Harry doesn't budge and shifts closer until his thigh rubs against Zayn's cock and it twitches in interest. "Zayn.. please." Harry murmurs into his neck, craning his neck to lick at his earlobe.

"Please..let me.. _please_." .

And Zayn nods, he feels helpless and torn, right on the edge of getting everything he's ever wanted and falling into a pit of nothing.

Harry moans again when he rubs his thigh against Zayn's cock, " _God_ , Zayn. You're just..so hot. Fuck."

Zayn whimpers in response.

In the next second Harry's on top of him, his thighs bracketing Zayn's hips and his full, round arse right on his cock.

"Harry, what-"

He cuts him off with his lips on Zayn's, firmly pressing them against Zayn's dry lips and sucking at the bottom lip until he gives in and opens his mouth. Zayn kisses him back then, tangling his fingers into Harry's hair, pulling him in, fighting for dominance and biting at the plumpness of Harry's lips. Harry's lips are soft over him, and his tongue wet and Zayn can't get enough of him, he feels light-headed with want, so he licks inside Harry's mouth, every corner he can reach until he's panting and pulling back for air.

He rests his forehead against Zayn's cheek and breathes for a few seconds before slowly brushing his lips against the stubble on Zayn's jaw with a hum. Zayn takes the time to rake his fingers through his curls.

Harry moves then, slowly drags his mouth to Zayn's neck, and kisses down the long line of his throat, until he's at the base and sucks at the skin, hard and rough, nips at the skin which has Zayn bucking his hips up against Harry's arse.

Harry grinds back against him with a huff, this puff of warm breath hitting Zayn's neck and sending goosebumps all over.

"Fuck, I'm so hard right now." Harry laughs, like he can't believe it.

"Yeah?" Zayn mumbles.

"Yeah." Harry nods into his neck and with a new vigour, he kisses Zayn again, hard. His tongue lapping inside Zayn's mouth relentlessly and Zayn makes a sound then, digging his hands into Harry's waist, a dragged _ngghh_ that he'll be embarrassed about later but Harry seems pleased by it and nips at his bottom lip until Zayn makes that sound again and again.

"Fuck." Harry groans, grinding his arse over Zayn's hard cock, a wet spot already forming on his sweats. Zayn meets his movements with an experimental thrust of his own, pulling Harry down on his cock a little harshly and Harry's eyes go wide with lust, blown and dark, his hair all over his face, plastered to his forehead. Fuck, Zayn's so gone for him.

This feels like a new high, nothing like the joints and nicotine, a new fucking high Harry takes him to, and Zayn never wants to come down, doesn't want to learn to live without this. He's wanted this for years, and now when he finally finally gets it, he doesn't want to go back. There's no going back.

"Hey, babe?"

Harry's talking to him, so he wills himself to blink. He blinks and licks his lips and focusses on Harry, hovering over him with his eyebrows pinched.

"You okay?"

Zayn nods. He's more than okay, really.

"You're here right? I thought I lost you for a second. You went all still and your eyes went glassy. If you..we don't have to-"

"No! I want this." Zayn holds Harry's thighs in place, "I want this. I'm good. I promise."

Harry dips down to peck him, "You sure?"

Zayn nods.

"Stay here okay? With me." Harry kisses his forehead and Zayn wants to cry, he wants to lay like this with Harry on top of him but he also wants to get a taste of Harry, everything he can, everywhere he can.

Harry shifts his way down Zayn's body, slowly getting rid of his tank top and then his sweats, revealing his very hard and flushed pink cock, curved at his belly, already wet at the tip.

He looks at him like he used to all those years ago, like he wants to pull out all of Zayn's strings until he's bare and open in front of him. Zayn's heart thumps pathetically in his chest so hard that he has to take a deep breath to calm the fuck down.

He tentatively bends down to lick at the underside of his cock, earning himself a deep moan from Zayn, mostly muffled by his fist, his toes curling. And in the next second, he has Zayn's entire cock engulfed inside the heat of his mouth, wet and hot, until it pokes his throat and Zayn cries, hands flying into Harry's hair, this loud broken sound that vibrates in the room and Harry's cock twitches in response in his boxers. He pulls back to the tip and goes down again, his eyes on Zayn, who stares back at him. So Harry sucks harder, builds just the right pressure around Zayn's cock, watching Zayn shut his eyes as he feels it twitching against his tongue.

"Babe. Babe. _Harry_. Wait." Zayn pulls him up.

"What?" Harry looks at him with swollen lips, shiny with his spit and so red.

"I want..I want to taste you, first." Zayn gulps.

Harry smiles, finally smiles with relief, "Yeah..okay." He gets up to take his boxers off and looks at Zayn expectantly.

Zayn sits up, making room for Harry and nods at the space, "On your stomach, knees bent and arse in the air, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Yeah." Harry chants, eagerly nodding and climbing up the bed. He gets into the position, trembling slightly.

Zayn has to squeeze his cock to stop himself from coming right then, at the sight of Harry's bare pink hole, inviting and so fucking delicious.

He runs his knuckles around the roundness of his ass and ends up swiping his thumb at Harry's hole. Harry gasps and shivers under his touch and _fuck_ , Zayn wants to taste him so bad. So he goes into it, hooks his thumbs to separate his ass cheeks and laps his wide tongue at his hole, wet and hot against the soft _soft_ skin. Harry shudders, so hard he almost unfolds his knees in defeat.

Zayn pulls him back into the position and smacks his hand on his left arse, the sound echoing in the tense silence of the room and a dark pink print of his fingers appears clear on the pale skin. "Stay still babe. Okay?"

By the way Harry breathes heavily and pushes his arse back into the air towards Zayn, he knows, Harry liked it. He pecks the spot afterwards, the pink print of his fingers fading slowly.

"Be a good boy for me okay Haz?"

He nods.

"Words babe." Zayn whispers before he bites into the full skin of his arse.

Harry whimpers, " Yeah. Okay." His voice wet with lust and anticipation.

Zayn pulls his asscheeks apart and dives his tongue right into his entrance, past the tight ring of muscle. " Shit!" Harry's torn voice comes out, ragged and broken.

"Feels good?" Zayn kisses around his rim.

"Yes, yes, yes. Feels so good Zayn, feels so fucking good." He cries back.

That's all Zayn needs to hear, before he laps his tongue deeper inside of him, as far as he can go, getting Harry's arse slick with his spit. He drags his tongue down his hole, licking a wide stripe at his balls back and forth which earns him a sharp hiss from Harry and tremble that Zayn feels under his mouth. He pushes himself up and plunges his tongue inside Harry's tight heat, relentlessly, like he can't stop, he can't not after every thrust gets him a needy sound from Harry, more needy with each thrust.

A quick twist of Zayn's tongue has him shuddering again, his knees buckle but he holds himself up, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." It sounds like he's crying.

Zayn kisses the base of his spine, running his knuckles down the back of his thighs, "It's okay babe. It's all okay. You want this right?"

"Yes. I want it. _So_ bad Zayn. You make me feel so good." He wipes his face at the pillow.

"Okay babe. Turn around for me yeah?" He pats Harry's thigh twice.

Harry does, and _fuck_ Zayn wasn't ready for it. He's flushed, pink from his face to the base of his throat, his eyes teary and almost red and his lips bitten and swollen, his hair plastered to his forehead. He sniffles once, twice and stares back at Zayn, before smiling slowly and Zayn feels a flood of emotions rushing through his body. He wants to curl up next to him and never get up but then his eyes travel down to Harry's cock, so hard and waiting, twitching under his gaze and leaking precum and he gets into action.

He fumbles through the drawers for his lube and maybe a few condoms. "Shit." He mutters when he drops the condoms down and quickly picks it up, getting up in a rush and hitting his head against the open drawer.   
"Fuck!"

Harry sits up, on his elbows, "Come here."

Zayn does, rubbing his head with a small pout. Harry pulls him over himself, between his thighs, and kisses his forehead, " And I'm the clumsy one." He teases.

"I'm just nervous." Zayn whispers quietly into his neck.

"Don't be. It's me." Harry whispers and runs his huge hand down Zayn's spine.

Zayn nods, pecks his lips once, twice and then sits back, pinching his eyebrows in concentration. He lubes his fingers up and looks at Harry, who nods back, hands fisting the bedsheet. Zayn inserts the tip of his index finger in, testing the resistance, it's not really tight, not after Zayn's practically fucked his tongue in there, so he glides it inside, deeper, gauging Harry's reaction with each inch. Harry doesn't look like he's in pain, so Zayn pumps his finger in, watching, fascinated. He inserts a second finger when it looks like there's enough stretch for it. It's not until he starts pumping his fingers inside him that Harry bends his knees, feet flat on the bed and bucks his hips up, head thrown back, "Fuck..Zayn."

Zayn inserts a third finger then, scissoring them inside him and trying to reach for the bundle of nerves. By the way Harry nearly shouts his name, Zayn thinks he's found something, most probably those nerves, so he pokes his fingers against it again and again until Harry's writhing infront of him.

"Zayn, babe, Zayn. Just fuck me. _Please_.. I'm so close." Harry chants, eyes closed.

Zayn _can't_ not. So he rolls the condom on and lubes himself up and hovers above Harry, between his thighs and kisses him, sweet and purposeful. He drags his lips down to the base of his throat and nips at the skin, wanting to leave a mark behind, sucks and bites at it until Harry hisses. He trails his wet kisses down Harry's to his sternum and kisses the spot and looks up to find Harry smiling at him, mouth open.

Zayn pokes his tongue out and licks at his nipple, plays with it and then closes his mouth around it and sucks until it's hard and erect. He moves down dismissing Harry's hard _hard_ cock and bites down on the flesh on the inside of Harry's thigh, then soothes it with his tongue, a bruise forming right there. And the thought of Harry being reminded of _him_ , his touch, his mouth everytime he'll touch the bruise makes Zayn so fucking happy, he could dance with it- or _not_ dance really.

"Ready babe?"

Harry nods, patiently waiting for him. So Zayn reaches for his cock with trembling hands and circles it around Harry's rim and then slowly pushes in, travelling past the tight rim of his hole and gasps as Harry's tight heat envelopes him in. Harry's eyes fly open at the intrusion and Zayn immediately runs his hand up and down his thigh to soothe him, he can't think of something to say right now, too overwhelmed.

"Yes." Harry nods, eyes on Zayn and Zayn moves then, sets his arms on both sides of Harry's waist, deeper inside until he's balls deep in him and waits, clenches his eyes shut and waits and when Harry holds onto his arms and pulls him further with a broken moan, Zayn forgets all control and pulls back fully to slam his cock back inside, shaking Harry with the force of it.

" _Zayyyn_! Shit." Harry whines, scratching at his biceps and wrapping his legs around his waist. "Fuck."

He doesn't stop then, pounding back and forth into Harry with force, pushing Harry further into the mattress, the headboard slamming with the pressure of it and Harry mumbles coherent words, his grip tightening on Zayn, pulling him in, _deeper_ , _farther_ , _harder_.

Zayn forgets to breathe, eyes shut tight in bliss when Harry clenches around him, so tight.

"Fuck Haz, so tight for me yeah. So tight so good babe."

"Yeah. For you." Harry chants and reaches his hand to grasp at the nape of Zayn's neck pulling him in and kissing him filthy and hard.

He pulls back and looks into his eyes, "Fuck. Make me feel good yeah..fuck me."

Zayn does, lifts Harry's hips up with his hands and starts thrashing his cock inside. Harry almost shreiks at the new angle, Zayn's cock brushing right at his prostate and cries his name, again and again.

" Zayn.. I.. _fuck.._ I."

Zayn releases his hips and hovers above Harry again, stopping for a second, and Harry whines, " _Noo_ don't stop. Just don't stop please."

"What do you want babe?"

Harry closes his eyes, takes a breath, "Choke me."

Zayn feels his cock twitching inside Harry at that, God he's never been so turned on, " Haz, look at me." He does. "It's okay, alright. Whatever you want."

Harry nods and Zayn clasps his hand around Harry's neck, a little tight, squeezing the flesh and Harry lets out a needy whine and Zayn's not going to last longer, so he picks up his pace and starts thrusting inside Harry with all his strength, Harry's muscles clench and unclench around him and Zayn practically sees stars.

"Zayn I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come Zayn. You make me feel so good..so good."

Zayn fastens his pace at that, plunging his cock inside him and reflexively squeezes around his neck tighter.

And Harry comes, squirting thick ropes of his cum between them, hips bucking to meet Zayn's thrusts and lets out a guttural sound.

Zayn places one of his hand on the headboard for leverage and fucks into Harry, grunting and panting, "Fuck Haz. Fuck _fuck_."

Harry feels Zayn's hips stutter, so he reaches out behind him and slightly dips his finger into Zayn's hole and that's it, Zayn comes, yelling Harry's name and coming inside the condom sloppily.

He drops on top of Harry, hides his face into his neck, "Shit. So fucking good." Harry whispers and Zayn nods, licking his lips and kisses him gently. He pulls out his cock gently, removes the condom, ties it and walks on wobbly legs to get a flannel for both of them.

He cleans Harry and throws the flannel on the floor, wrapping himself around Harry immediately, kissing his neck.

"God. Wow."

"Yeah." Harry whispers with a smile.

Zayn tucks himself closer to him, "I love you."   
And doesn't wait for Harry to say it back before he drifts to sleep.

******

Zayn takes a deep breath, trying to blink away the tears, he's not fifteen, he's not going to cry over it again. He looks around the room again to find something, anything Harry left behind for him, a note, a glass of water, a letter, his clothes.. nothing. He hides his face into his hands and heaves, takes deep breaths, _it's okay it's okay it's okay_ but it's not because Harry's not here, he should've been here, smiling at Zayn with half of his face smashed against the pillow or with a tray of breakfast or anything.

His phone vibrates on the table and Zayn runs to pick it up, maybe it's Harry, maybe he went to get Zayn his chai latte but the name flashes on the screen and Zayn lets out an involuntary sob again, "Hello." His voice sounds wet and broken and he prays that she doesn't catch it.

"Hey Zed. Everything okay?" _She did._

"Yeah."

"Your flight is in an hour. You're coming back right?"

Zayn looks around the room, at the bed, the bedsheets still have prints of their tangled limbs on them, the flannel still on the floor.

"Yeah." Zayn nods and messily wipes at his eyes, "Yeah Sarah. I'm coming back. I'm coming back."

"Okay. Good. I'll see you. Take care okay?"

"Yeah."

He wipes at his face, to stop the tears, they don't. So he packs his stuff with tears streaming down his face and a runny nose.

Now that he thinks of it, he should've asked once more, if Harry was sure, if he wanted Zayn for real and not just because he felt lonely because Zayn can't go back now, he's broken again and he can't fix himself again. He should've asked but he didn't ask and Harry didn't tell.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh shit!" Zayn hears a familiar voice, a very familiar voice. "You were sleeping, I'm such an idiot. I didn't even think it through. I should've thought about it before coming because obviously you were sleeping, it's Sunday and people sleep on Sunday and it's really early, I'm sorry...."
> 
> Zayn's eyes go wide then, his mind finally catching a hold of everything. He looks at a very flushed Harry, embarrassed and panting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably have an epilogue. But until then, there you have it. Thankyou for reading. I'm so grateful for all your appreciation. ❤️

_A year later_

The room's crowded with people, all the stools occupied with a few of them standing behind those stools, looking at him, expectantly. Zayn scans the room for Trisha, she said she'd be here but she isn't yet, however, his eyes land on the two men in the first row, smiling at him, one of them with blue eyes and blonde hair and the other a brunette with green eyes, holding hands. Zayn almost feels his anxiety crawling up his skin and ducks his head in a small nod, dragging his eyes around the room again and ends up looking at Sarah, smiling at him from the door. He wipes his hand at his jeans, patting his thigh loudly once and shifting back on his chair, infront of all these people. Zayn had refused to do this, he couldn't, with his anxiety whirling in his mind, under his muscles, he had refused profusely but Sarah had said, ' _It'll help Zee. I promise. Saying it out loud will help.'_

They changed names, ofcourse they did because Zayn would never let himself be so vulnerable again. He didn't even want to publish this anymore, it felt meaningless, a meaningless fling that Zayn wanted to be his story, so bad that he felt embarrassed reading his own words but he knew he had to get this out, get Harry out of his system. So here he is. 

He smiles at the audience, sending a small nod of acknowledgement at Sarah and picks the book from the small table next to him, occupied with a bottle of water, a few blank pages incase someone wants him to write something for them and a few pens and markers. He clears his throat and looks at the audience once before starting, they stare back at him, the couple in the front row still smiling.

Zayn starts, "Maybe this _is_ love. Not those flowers and red hearts, not those stars and galaxies, not the complicated words on a page in a sad book but this, this constant itch under my skin that I can't scratch away, no matter how hard I dig my nails into it, it stays intact, uncomfortable and unsettling. Like a reminder, that he was there, he touched me there and I can't wash him off of me, no matter how hard I scrub. " He sneaks a look over the book and his eyes land on the couple again, both of them closer now, looking back at him, holding on tight. He also finds a figure moving near the door, it's Trisha, waving at him wildly, all wide smiles. Zayn smiles back and breathes, lets himself loose. 

"This constant battle of trying, trying so hard to get him out of my system, to let go, but clinging desperately to the flashes of his shy grins behind my eyelids, reliving his laugh again and and again as it plays inside my head. The itch that makes me so weak that I stand on the verge of breaking, every night but also is the only hope for waking up to another sunrise. The laughing all day long to only come back to my room, _not_ even making it to the room some nights, crying, crying because I don't feel anything anymore, except his hands on me, crying because I can't look into the mirror without thinking of him, crying because I wasn't enough, for him to stay, but not yelling, not breaking anything, just crying and nodding to myself under the weird neon lights of the hotel room , because I understand, because I still don't hate him for leaving, because I know, I couldn't ever be enough, I'll never be, not for him.But waking up the next day to his smile, his special grin that stretched slowly on his face, dimples deepening with each pull of a muscle, behind my eyelids again. Maybe this is love, afterall, to hold onto the parts of him I got, to wonder if he holds onto the parts of me he has, the parts that no one else will ever have, because those are his and only his to keep."

The room goes silent and Zayn shuts his eyes for a second to breathe but then before he opens them, a loud roar of applauds fill the room. He looks at the couple again, clapping with wide smiles being sent his way and Zayn smiles back, really smiles and waves his hand at the audience with a ' Thankyou', his voice wet with emotions and at the back of the room, Trisha and Sarah clap the loudest for him.

_

Zayn meets everyone, with a small smile on his face, signs books, gives a few personal notes to people who ask for it, hugs some of them who almost cry in front of him because ' _the book is just so sad'_ , Zayn just hugs them tight when he feels his own eyes threatening to spill tears. He draws a few tattoo designs for people who love his tattoos and get excited when he tells them that he designs most of them himself. Trisha stands besides him, running her hands down his back from time to time, to remind him to breathe, because Zayn honestly forgets to.

He's really tired by the time it wraps up. He watches Sarah still dealing with the people who haven't yet left, slumping on a chair in the corner of the room and rubs his hands over his face, stretches his body and yawns for the millionth time.

"Tired sonshine?" Trisha rubs his shoulders and he leans back into her touch, nodding.

"It was good mum. It just..felt _good_."

"You were brilliant."

Zayn laughs, "I'm not brilliant."

"You are. You're my brilliant son." She bends down to place a kiss on the top of his head.

Zayn just shakes his head with a smile.

"Baby.." and the pause isn't good, Zayn knows. " Are you okay?"

Zayn sighs, straightening up on the chair, tense. Trisha pulls a chair and sits in front of him, assessing him.

"I'm fine mum."

"But you-"

"I've been busy with the publishing stuff. It's just been hectic. That's it. I'm fine."

She reaches for his hand, "You'll talk to me when you don't feel okay, right?"

Zayn looks at her, he doesn't want to cry, not when it seems so easy because he's tired and he hasn't slept for a week, it looks like the easiest option right now, to just cry infront of her, to break down for once, to not look like he's got his shit under control, because he hasn't. Zayn's so tired. But he knows her, she won't sleep for nights worrying about him in a foreign country.

"I will. I'm fine mum. I'm fine. It's all good." He squeezes her hand.

"Listen to me sonshine, it'll be okay alright? I promise, even if it isn't now, it'll get better." Zayn just looks at her, it's like she's telling him something and he's missing the point of it.

She shakes her head then, "Very well then. Let's go back, I'll make you your favourite kadhai chicken for dinner."

"But you must be tired mum. It's fi-"

"You know I'm not gonna miss a chance of making food for you. Come on get up now."  
Zayn knows that, so he holds her hand and they walk to the car waiting for them.

_

There should be a fucking rule against it ; Zayn thinks groggily, dragging his feet unwillingly towards the door, the tiled floor cold beneath his feet, a rule against ringing someone's bell so fucking early in the morning, _especially_ on a Sunday. He wants to whine aloud, like a child and stomp his feet because he's really fucking sleepy and he'd fallen into a sound slumber after almost three weeks of not sleeping properly. So this person can absolutely fuck off.

He opens the door with squinty eyes because his eyes keep drooping shut.  
"Wha'?"

"Oh shit!" Zayn hears a familiar voice, a very familiar voice. "You were sleeping, I'm such an idiot. I didn't even think it through. I should've thought about it before coming because obviously you were sleeping, it's Sunday and people sleep on Sunday and it's really early, I'm sorry...."

Zayn's eyes go wide then, his mind finally catching a hold of everything. He looks at a very flushed Harry, embarrassed and panting, he probably took the stairs instead of the lift, his hair cut short again, in a sheer black shirt and tight skinny jeans with a pearl chain hanging loosely around his neck. Zayn just stares at him, up and down, making sure it's real, he's real. He looks at Harry's face again and realises that he's still rambling.

"Harry?" Zayn presses.

"I've always been really stupid, haven't I? I don't think things through and you look so tired, you should just go back to sleep, it's okay-" He looks hysterical.

" _Harry_!" Zayn almost yells.

Harry stops then. And breathes heavily, staring back at him.

"What are you doing here?"

He didn't intend for it to come out so harsh and Harry probably feels the pinch of it because his mouth closes shut, like a kicked puppy, his eyes go wide and he almost takes a step back from Zayn.

"I read your book." He whispers, as an explanation.

Zayn stares at him. This beautiful man, all over the place but still the best thing ever to happen to him. This man, who has so many parts of Zayn's heart, it's crazy. God Zayn loves him, still fucking loves him. And he's suddenly glad Sarah decided to change names, it saves him the embarrassment now when Harry's right in front of him.

"It was umm..it was really good."

"Thanks."

Zayn just stares at him, gauging him and holding onto the door handle to hide the tremble in his hand.

Harry fidgets looking at his shoes, "I'm sorry Zayn." His voice goes heavy, "I'm really sorry I fucked up. It was the shittiest thing to-"

"It's fine Haz." Zayn cuts in bluntly because he _really_ doesn't want to hear why Harry left him, he doesn't want to hear that Harry didn't want him, didn't feel the same and it was a mistake and he wants a friendship now.

" No Zayn! Listen to me." He looks up wildly, eyes a little wet, Zayn goes soft at that, "I'm saying sorry because I messed up, because I am a coward. Because I am the stupidest person ever. Because when I woke up after that night.."

Zayn shuts his eyes, waiting for the blow.

" It felt so right." He whispers.

Zayn's eyes fly open, " _What_?"

This has to be a fucking dream, a really weird dream. 

"Zayn I spent half my life running after love, chasing the thrill of it, chasing after Jean, all of this to make it feel right. I thought I wasn't doing something right, I thought I was missing something. It just never felt right and I chased it, I ran after that thrill but it never felt right.

But then after that night between us, when I woke up and I saw you, right there with your arms around me and you.."  
he breathes, a little sob escapes his lips mixed with a laugh of disbelief, "you were _smiling_ Zayn! You were smiling in your sleep and I waited for the panic to arise, the horrible feeling of messing up but it didn't come. It felt so right. For the first time in my life, something felt right Zayn. It felt so so right, I cried, sitting next to you, I cried because I had been so blind and then it scared me because you were there for just a week and what if you hadn't thought much of what happened between us-" He's properly crying now.

Zayn shakes his head in disbelief, his own eyes threatening to shed tears, "I told you I _loved_ you Harry."

"I know! I know, and I heard it-" He heaves, wiping at his eyes wildly with the back of his hand and Zayn really doesn't know how long he can stand upright anymore because his legs are on the verge of giving up.

"And you didn't say anything?" Zayn counters.

" Because people say it all the time Zayn, without meaning it." He almost yells back, with a loud sob.

"Jean said it all the time and I said it back, but _God_ I never loved him. I never loved him and I told him I loved him for years. And when you said it, it scared me. It scared me because I wanted you to say it and mean it and I know running away was the worst thing to do, but I was so lost Zayn. It was just too much to process and I saw your bags lying on the floor, almost packed and I wanted to throw up. So I left." He sobs loudly. " I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry."

Zayn's eyes go blurry and his lip wobbles, "Harry, I meant it, I fucking meant it more than anything."

Harry steps forward, "I know, I know you did and I'm sorry Zayn, I'm sorry."

Zayn shuts his eyes, tears finally slipping out, "I don't know Haz, I don't know what to say." He breathes out a heavy sigh, "I just wanted you to say that you'd atleast give us a chance. I just wanted you to stay."

"I couldn't Zayn, I couldn't."

Zayn laughs, bitter, "Ofcourse."

"I couldn't say it back and have you fly back to New York. You were already so far away from us, from me. I didn't want to cry against someone's neck again because you wouldn't respond to my texts. I couldn't. But," he wipes his nose at his arm, "I'm saying it now, that I'm ready. I'm ready because I know you'll never feel too far away because you're not Jean, you're not him. You're Zayn, you're my best friend, you always have been because you know when I need a cuddle, you know when I need someone to hold me close and you know when I need to not be touched at all."

"It's been a year Harry." Zayn pleads. 

"I know, and all this time I tried to stop it, I tried to make myself believe that it was nothing but it wasn't just nothing was it? I read your book and I couldn't breathe Zayn. I couldn't breathe." He breaks down, a broken fucking mess, so out of place.

Zayn tugs him closer then, pulls him in a swift move and wraps his arms around his waist, which isn't quite comfortable because Harry's bag is in the way, hanging heavily from his shoulders, but Zayn smiles, even with the tears running down his face, he smiles because Harry immediately tucks his face into his neck and breathes shakily. Zayn holds him, even though it feels like he's falling apart himself, but he holds onto Harry because he's ready to fall apart and let Harry Styles in, he holds him tight until Harry stops shaking and pulls back, rubbing at his swollen eyes.

" Wait," he protests when Zayn starts to pull him back into his arms, "I have more to say. I read your book okay. And..and all this time I've felt so guilty and bad about that morning and when I read your book , I could see it, I saw it, it was all us and I cried, I really cried not in a bad way, but in a like a good way because it was so good and then I went hysterical because I was so stupid, it was always right infront of me. _You_ were right there and I never saw it. I'm so stupid and on the top of that I hurt you, I hurt you so much and it makes me so mad at myself and I just want to say I'm sorry, I'm really sorry and I want to know if you still want me..."

Zayn opens his mouth but Harry cuts him, " Not that you have to. It's okay if you've moved on. I am pretty dumb anyways, so if you don't want it anymore, it's okay. I'll go back and we can be-"

"What? _Friends_?" Zayn laughs mockingly.

"Yeah." Harry states dumbly, feeling more embarassed.

"Haz, God. You're still dumb." He wipes at his own eyes with one hand, the other still holding onto Harry, not letting go, not now.

"So?" Harry looks at him, shuffling on his toes, biting his lip.

" Oh my god Haz, shut up and come in."

He slowly grins at Zayn then, (this special grin that stretches slowly across his entire face, the one Zayn dreams about) like he's thinking about something really cheesy or bad to say and he knows Zayn's going to hate it. Probably a knock knock-

"Knock knock?"

Zayn groans because no, he's _not_ doing this right now.

"Zayn pleeeassee!"

Zayn closes his eyes, laughing, contemplating how his morning turned into this.

"Who's there?" He fakes a big smile with it.

" Lettuce."

"Lettuce who?"

"Lettuce in and you'll know." Harry wiggles his eyebrows at him, eyes still wet and red at the edges.

And Zayn laughs, this loud throaty laugh bubbles out of him. "What the fuck Harry?"

He steps back and a very happy Harry steps in. Zayn manages to turn around after shutting the door when Harry flings himself at him, catching Zayn's bottom lip between his own, pressing his body hard against him, his hands finding Zayn's hip bones. Zayn's too surprised to react, just stands there, breathing against Harry's lips. 

Harry pulls back a little after a few seconds, "Sorry, just wanted to-"

He's cut off by Zayn's lips on his now, hands curling around Harry's neck and jaw and pulling him in, until they're touching everywhere. Zayn bites at his bottom lip and sucks it in his mouth to soothe it with his tongue while Harry makes incoherent noises, nails digging into Zayn's arms.

"Fuck." Zayn whispers right against his lips.

"Yeah..Fucking fuck Zayn!" He laughs wetly.

Zayn knocks his forehead against Harry's lightly, with a shy grin, " I missed you."

Harry smiles back, cupping Zayn's face in his hands, "I missed you too, so much. I went crazy with it, I was so miserable Zayn. But now I'm here, we're here and it'll be okay, right?."

Zayn nods and holds onto Harry's arms. _It'll be okay_.


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not easy but then Zayn looks at him with sparkly eyes like he's never seen anything more beautiful and Harry thinks the universe probably loves him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou so much for being here. Tell me what you think. Big love. ❤️

It's not easy, it's not, especially when you're so in love. The skype calls and the texts can only do so much but they don't warm Harry up when he misses Zayn, the feeling of his body pressed against Harry, his voice near his ear, his fingers ghosting on his hips, tonight for example. Harry tosses and stares at the ceiling, restless.

He almost cries as he remembers the last time Zayn visited him, how he hugged Harry so tight at the airport like he couldn't breathe without him, how they cried into each other's neck, sniffling and grinning at the same time, earning themselves weird looks from the others walking by. Harry tried to walk them out of the airport, to not cause a scene but then Zayn kissed him, held him in place and kissed him hard, still crying, tears running down his cheeks and Harry couldn't care about anyone, not when he missed Zayn so much too.

How they had escaped to Harry's house, in his defense, Harry did tell Zayn to go meet Trisha, even when he had his car parked outside his house, he tried convincing Zayn but Zayn shifted himself onto his lap from the passenger seat in one swift move and nibbled at his jaw, his hands tugging at his curls while he whispered out all the things he'd let Harry do to him.

And Harry _did_ lose it at the very moment, his hands gripping at Zayn's ass, pulling him closer, grinding their crotches together but he tried again, a weak plea of 'But Trisha-' , Zayn cut him off again, ' She's not at home. The girls are all out shopping with her. It's only Prince at home.'

And Harry didn't need another sound out of Zayn's mouth except the delicious moans he let out when Harry grinded against him, so he did just _that_ and Zayn did moan back, almost crying into Harry's ear, crying out of want. They had to shift it inside because he knew they wouldn't last, with Zayn crying into his ear, letting out short- pained whimpers, he knew they couldn't wait any longer. So he took it upon himself, tightening his hold on Zayn's ass, he carried Zayn inside and the giggle he received in return told him Zayn loved it too.

They meddled together on his bed, melting into each other's touches, holding and pulling in, marking each other.

Harry was _so_ impatient with it, he couldn't wait, straddling Zayn's thighs and fumbling with the his belt when Zayn held his face in his hands and looked right into his eyes, thumbing at Harry's wobbling bottom lip and pulling Harry close so their noses bumped together, he kissed Harry's nose first, his cheek next, the bone below his eyebrow, his forehead and then his lips, _so soft, so slow,_ Harry almost cried with it.

' I'm here babe. I'm here.' he whispered and Harry nodded, suddenly very emotional, hiding his face into Zayn's neck, crushing him beneath his weight. Zayn didn't mind it, instead he wrapped his legs around Harry's thighs to pull him closer, rubbing his back with one hand and the other scratching at the nape of his neck, earning a sigh from Harry.

They fucked for hours, not letting go, kissing one another as soon as they orgasmed, dirty and slick, until they were hard again, they couldn't stop.

Zayn had laughed at him later and when Harry turned to look at him, he was looking at Harry's journal, filled with thoughts of him, his touches, his lips, his voice and some pages were just his name- _Zayn_. Harry looked at him with a pout, 'I missed you okay' and Zayn pulled him back into his arms, 'I did too babe, so much, well not as much as going to the extent of writing about your dick but-' and Harry kicked his leg, hiding his face into Zayn's chest and Zayn just held him closer, laughing against him.

Harry wipes at his eyes, it's not easy being in love with Zayn Malik, not because it's bad but because it's _so_ good. Because Zayn is just _Zayn_ , he skypes Harry even when his eyes clearly protest against it, drooping and red, he whispers 'I love you's ' into the phone and giggles like it's a secret, he deepens his voice and talks slow and has Harry on the edge, melting and so hard, he knows when Harry needs him and he makes sure he's there. Harry hates himself for being so selfish, when he has his family living an hour away and Zayn's a thousand miles away from all of them, but he wishes he had Zayn next to him every night.

He sobs loudly, hiding his face into the pillow and lets himself cry when his phone going off startles him. He wipes at his eyes and it's Zayn, ofcourse it is.

"Hell-"

"Open the door." Zayn whispers, really quiet.

Harry sits up, "What?"

"Open the door." Zayn giggles, still whispering.

"Zayn are you drunk? You should go back to sleep. Who are you with? Are you safe-"

"Harry Styles open your fucking door before I start crying at your doorstep."

Harry's eyes widen, a laugh escaping his lips, "You didn't-"

"Harry I'm seriously going to cry okay-"

"I'm coming!" He runs towards the door, stubbing his toe on his way but limping to the door in his boxers nonetheless, until he swings the door open and he's right infront of Zayn.

Zayn's grinning at him, eyes crinkled and bright and Harry really has no option but to jump at him and wrap himself around Zayn's body, he's sure he looks like a koala but he doesn't really give a fuck, because Zayn's here.

Zayn stumbles back but manages to stay upright and hugs him back, hands travelling down to hold his thighs in place and walking inside, "God Haz, I missed you so much." He kisses at Harry's neck, his favourite spot, he'd told Harry. So Harry cranes his neck to give him more access and Zayn takes the hint, sucking in the skin, tasting it while Harry lets out a cry of 'I missed you much. I love you.'

Zayn holds him against the nearest wall and Harry takes the opportunity to tighten his thighs around him, hands tugging at his hair, kissing him hard.

"I love you, so much babe, so much."

Harry's crying by the time they pull back, "I love you. I love you."

"Aww don't cry baby." He kisses Harry's nose who giggles in return.

"I just missed you." Harry rubs at his eyes and Zayn's legs almost give up at how soft he looks, how much he's missed him too, how lucky he is to finally have him, to have Harry Styles in his arms, crying and vulnerable.

"I'm here aren't I?"

Harry nods, hugging him, "You are."

"Guess what I got you?"

Harry pulls back quickly, eyes bulging out, "No! You didn't!" Zayn's smug face says he _absolutely_ did, "Where'd you even get them from?" Harry lets out a laugh of disbelief.

"I have my ways. " He smirks.

Harry blushes out of nowhere, he suddenly feels so hot, vulnerable and squirmy.

"Hey, don't be like that now." Zayn coos, leaning in to bite at his earlobe, "I want my princess to show me what she meant on the phone yesterday.", clearly hinting at the lace lingerie and pink fluffy handcuffs Harry had ranted about to him.

Harry smacks his shoulder with a shy grin, " Asshole."

"Yeah, I'd like to wreck yours." Zayn grins and Harry's never been so red with embarassment and want, so he kisses Zayn again until they're back in his bedroom, touching anyway they can, whispering their emotions out, sucking bruises;

And it's not easy, it's not, especially when you're so in love, but if you asked him, Harry would happily give away everything to have this, to have Zayn Malik in his bed after months, crying and kissing him until his lips swell with it, kissing him like they're teenagers in high school, kissing him like he absolutely needs to do it.

It's not easy but then Zayn looks at him with sparkly eyes like he's never seen anything more beautiful and Harry thinks the universe probably loves him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou for reading. Tell me what you think. ❤️


End file.
